


time to waste

by princebleu



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, One Shot, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 20:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20263753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princebleu/pseuds/princebleu
Summary: Hiccup takes Dagur along for an early morning errand.





	time to waste

The Berserker tents strung along the cliff made a striking image against the lightning sky. A few years before the painted Skrills set so numerous and high above the village would have been intimidating and cause for alarm. But now they were as familiar as the dragons that dotted the skies of Berk. 

The bruising along the horizon gave the world a faint blue glow. Standing on the steps of Mildew’s old home, the spring air was still frigid enough for Hiccup to see his own breath puffing in front of his face. 

He gave a knock on the rickety old door and before he could give another it opened to reveal Dagur’s beaming face. Hiccup let out another puff. Leave it to Dagur the Deranged to already be awake and armored before first light. Hiccup could easily imagine him sitting by the hearth twiddling his thumbs for hours waiting for Hiccup to arrive. He was sure Dagur’s insistence the night before for Hiccup to wake him at dawn had been a ploy. What it was working towards remained a mystery as Dagur stepped out into the cold morning alongside Hiccup. 

“Good morning, Hiccup!” Dagur said a little too loudly, his face still fixed with that sharp smile that showed too many teeth. 

“Yeah, yeah, good morning keep it down.” Hiccup chided, glancing back at all the tents lined up in Mildew’s field. He had no desire to deal with any more rowdy Berserkers than he had to. One was enough. 

That one was ignoring him to glance at the empty space surrounding Hiccup that was usually occupied by three hundred pounds of scales and temperament. 

“No Night Fury?” Dagur asked, mercifully quiet. 

“He's back at the house.” Hiccup said. “He’ll enjoy the chance to sleep in.”

Truthfully, he didn't think Toothless would have appreciated being woken up earlier than usual to hang out with Dagur. The dragon trusted Dagur as far as he could throw him. Which was actually a respectable distance. It didn't mean Toothless had to enjoy Dagur’s company or partake in it any more than necessary. It was something to deal with in the future but for now Hiccup was content to let sleeping dragons lie.

“Just the two of us then.” Dagur waggled his eyebrows. “The way I like it.”

Hiccup turned and began the walk down the other side of the cliff towards the forest. He didn't look to see if Dagur followed because he wouldn't have cared at that moment if he tripped off the cliff and died. 

He heard the door of the hut close and Dagur’s boots thudding against the wet morning grass. He fell into step with Hiccup easily and was happy to keep the silence between them comfortable.

As they walked along the rocky mountainside, the glen gradually turned to trees. The morning mist bathed the familiar forest in an air of mystery. The sounds of the island waking up surrounded them. Terrors chirping, birds singing, and small lines of smoke streaking up from the village as people relit their hearths and the forge was fired up. 

It was remarkably peaceful.

“How much farther?” Nevermind.

“About twenty more minutes at this pace.” Hiccup said.

Dagur made a face. “We'd already be there if you’d brought Toothless.” Hiccup didn't have to look at him to know he was pouting. He had no idea if Dagur thought that whining tone was attractive but Hiccup certainly could have lived without it.

“I thought you liked it when it's just the two of us?” Hiccup shot back, stepping over a fallen branch. 

“I do.” Dagur said, suddenly serious. “I love it.”

Dagur fixed Hiccup with a look and he had to turn away, face heating at the intensity of the other’s gaze.

After a few beats of silence Dagur spoke again, “I'll just think of it as extra alone time.”

“That's good.” Hiccup’s voice only wavered a little bit.

“I'd hike a thousand laps around the island for you, Hiccup.”

“I know you would, Dagur.”

They continued in silence.

-_-_-_-

It was, as Hiccup had said, another twenty minutes before they reached their destination. 

Jutting out of the center of a small clearing was a crooked boulder. The rock was twisted unnaturally, its surface scarred deeply by the unmistakable marks of a dragon’s talons. Hiccup had no clue the reasons this particular boulder had been the target of some ancient ire but by the marks it seemed to have been a scratching post for several different breeds. It looked like it had even been scorched by a Monstrous Nightmare. 

But it was not the abused rock itself that was the goal of their journey that morning. All along the boulder were twisting and entangling vines. They were thin but covered in fat bulbs, each an inch apart from each other. Only about a third of the bulbs had blossomed but it was still enough to make the trip worthwhile.

The flowers were a deep purple and their entire life cycle lasted only the first month of spring. In a few weeks they would wither and fall to the base of the stone to begin their year long wait to sprout again with the next spring. But until that time, they would be invaluable healing herbs.

Hiccup took out an empty bag and walked up to the mess of vines. Plucking a flower from near the center, he held it up to Dagur’s face for inspection.

“What stands out?” Hiccup asked.

Dagur leaned forward and took a big whiff of flower. 

He immediately wrenched back, his face screwed up in an unnecessary exaggeration of disgust.

“It smells like medicine!”

“Sure does.” Hiccup said unphased. “What else?”

Dagur leaned back towards the flower, but with caution this time.

“Its purple.”

“Yes.”

“Like a Skrill.”

“No… I mean yes, but that’s unrelated.” Hiccup huffed. “You know what? If it helps you remember then yes, it is in fact, purple ‘like a Skrill.’”

Dagur’s smile took up most of his face and was all teeth. Hiccup would have to double down with his insistence of a Gronkle instead of a Skrill. He didn't even know if he could train a Skrill. Not to mention that it was a danger Hiccup didn't think wise to place in Dagur’s lap. The man was bored too easily and he didn't need immediate access to lightning.

Hiccup tilted the flower so that its short stem was facing Dagur. He stared at it seriously, brows knitting together, eager to impress. 

“Stem’s short.”

Hiccup said nothing.

Dagur’s eyes slid to the rock. He grinned. “It grows on vines. Not out of the ground like Oleander”

“It does.” Hiccup smiled. “What is it used for?”

Dagur’s grin didn't falter. “Smelly medicine.”

“You’re exactly right.” Smartass. “You mash up the petals and mix it with curdled milk. Leave it next to your bed overnight and you wake up with a clear nose.”

Dagur grin dimmed. “Gross. Is that all we came out here for?”

“It works for dragons too.” Hiccup paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. “Have you ever seen one sneeze?”

Hiccup watched all emotion drain from Dagur’s face as he imagined it. His eyes went all glassy before widening comically. His mouth gaped and he looked utterly delighted by the idea. “Do they sneeze fire, Hiccup? Do they? Oh, please tell me they do!”

“They do and it's not as big a blast as I'm sure you’re imagining it is.” But it was big enough to be an annoying problem. Thus the early morning hike. 

“Does Toothless sneeze plasma? Oh Gods, this is the second best thing you've ever told me!” Dagur was lost to the possibilities. He continued babbling derangedly about Toothless and asking wild questions like “Do the sneezes count towards his shot limit?” and “Is the snot static-y?”.

Hiccup didn't know if Dagur’s obsession with Toothless was because he was a Night Fury or because he was Hiccup’s dragon. If Toothless was wild or if Hiccup had a Gronkle would Dagur care as much? Watching Dagur have a freak out over “plasma sniffles” made him wonder. Perhaps it was both. Toothless was special because he was Hiccup’s and Hiccup was special because he was Toothless’s.

Coming out of his thoughts, Hiccup realised Dagur had stopped talking. The intense look was back and Hiccup suddenly felt very warm in that cold space before dawn. Shaking himself slightly, he shoved the empty bag into Dagur’s waiting hands. “Just pick the ones that are bloomed. The rest aren't ready and you'll only ruin them if they're picked now.”

Dagur kept his gaze on Hiccup a few moments longer, before he finally— mercifully— turned towards the boulder and began plucking off flowers. He was smiling serenely, the jerk.

-_-_-_-

The flowers were not overly delicate, and even so they weren't needed intact, which made it an easy job for Dagur’s rough fingers. The only sound between the two of them for a while were the distant sounds of life in the forest and the occasional humming of a tune. 

Dagur was the one to break it, again, as if it were his Gods given duty.

“So what are you doing later?” 

“A lot. My day’s full up.”

“With what?”

“Uh.” Hiccup had to think for a moment, it was far too early. “Some marriages to officiate. A couple of baby namings. Dad wants me to sit in on some disputes in the afternoon.”

“Chief things.” Dagur said.

“Chief things.” Hiccup repeated. “What are you up to today?”

“Um.” Dagur paused. “Weapons sharpening. Hunting. War games in the afternoon.”

“Chief things.” Hiccup said sardonically. 

“Chief things.” Dagur responded sincerely.

“Whatcha hunting?”

“Stoick wants me to kill a boar.” Dagur stopped working to look at Hiccup seriously. “I don't think he respects me.”

Hiccup couldn't help it. He laughed. Dagur’s frown deepened. 

“He just wants you out of his hair for a little while.” Hiccup tried to placate him between fits of laughter. How telling that an errand from Stoick was a sign of disrespect, yet he had been bouncing in his seat when Hiccup had asked for his assistance so early in the morning. 

The look on Dagur’s face remained the same.

“I'm a chief. I could live in his damned hair if it pleased me.” His lip curled and he seemed so disgusted and shocked at his own words. Hiccup’s giggling started up again. 

“Oh Gods…”

“This is grounds for war.”

“It is so not.”

“Hiccup—”

“You’re not allowed to wage war against my dad over something so stupid!” 

Hiccup was smiling but as he looked over, he saw that Dagur wasn't. His eyes were screwed shut, his whole body was tensed with absolute fury. Hiccup stopped laughing.

Dagur took a deep breath. Held it. Then exhaled slowly, the tension in his frame going out with the air. He looked over at Hiccup, the space between them awkward.

“I'm sorry.” His voice had that unreal calm laced into it. It put Hiccup more on edge than shouting would have. “I was being ridiculous. I know you don't like me talking about Stoick like that.”

“Okay.” Was all Hiccup could think to say.

Dagur turned back to the vines. “I'll just take it out on that boar.”

Hiccup went back to collecting as well. “If it helps,” he said slowly, “the boar is an actual problem.”

Dagur hummed.

“Yeah, it almost killed Bjorn’s boy the other day actually.” He continued awkwardly. “So I think he'd actually appreciate it if you killed it.”

Silence.

“And y’know, you and the other Berserkers are camped halfway to where it is already so uh,” Hiccup began babbling and he couldn't stop “I mean he knows you like hunting and killing things probably with your bare hands so I'm sure he asked because he thought you’d have some fun and—” Hiccup bit his tongue to force himself to stop talking.

Dagur clicked his tongue. “Do you think if I cooked the boar Stoick would eat it?”

“My dad loves your cooking.” Hiccup blurted out his father's secret without looking back. “He doesn't want you to know.”

Dagur smiled smugly at the flower in his hand. The combination of Stoick secretly liking something of Dagur’s creation and Hiccup betraying his father’s confidence, as small a betrayal as it was, seemed to have been enough to lift his mood. 

He delicately placed the flower in the bag with the rest and said sweetly, “Hiccup have I told you how lovely you are this morning?”

Now it was Hiccup’s turn to hold and release a breath. “No. And I'll thank you not to tell me.”

“But you deserve to know.”

“I already know, Dagur.”

“Then you deserve to be told. Repeatedly.”

“I already told you no, Dagur.”

“But—”

“Less talking; more picking.”

-_-_-_-

All in all the job took far longer than Hiccup had thought it would. It was mostly the fault of Dagur, who kept flipping back and forth between flirting with Hiccup and trying to pick a fight with him. But finally they picked the last of the flowers Hiccup deemed acceptable for use and tied the bag off.

Morning light was just piercing through the fog as Dagur stood and stretched, his back popping audibly. Hiccup watched in silence. They didn't have much time left before they needed to start heading back. 

Hiccup huffed. 

Dagur glanced at him over his shoulder, brow arched. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping we'd have more time.” 

Dagur smiled, in a way that made him look what could almost be described as “rather handsome”.

“Aww Hicc—”

“Don't.” Hiccup held up a hand, then turned it and made a come hither motion.

Dagur moved like a man possessed, and was in front of Hiccup within three short strides. He stood over him and years ago the sight, like the tents along the cliff, would have been intimidating. Now, much like other previous dangers in Hiccup’s life, Dagur had become familiar and welcome. Oh my, Dagur the Deranged looking at him with intent. A secret rendezvous in the forest. How scandalous.

Hiccup laughed softly and spread his arms, beckoning.

Dagur practically crumbled before him, his eyes never leaving Hiccup, never blinking. As if looking away would cause Hiccup to vanish. A silly thought. A deranged thought.

Dagur looked at Hiccup, seeking permission. Hiccup took his hands and tugged him close, granting it.

Bringing his head down until their foreheads bumped, Dagur’s eyes finally shut. His hands squeezed Hiccup’s fingers, and Hiccup gave a reassuring squeeze in return.

Hiccup ran a hand along Dagur’s smoothed jaw before moving up to run his fingers through wild auburn hair. Beneath his fingertips was an untouchable, unmalleable madness. Dagur had once whispered to him in the dark about how he could feel it pulsing against his skull. How it sometimes felt like there was a murky barrier between him and the rest of the world. “I am trying, Hiccup,” He had whispered into Hiccup’s hair. “I promise you I am trying.”

Hiccup sat up. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to Dagur’s hairline. Slipping his arms around Dagur’s shoulders, he left a trail of kisses along the side of his face. 

Dagur let out a stream of pleased sounds, pushing back against all of Hiccup’s touches. Their noses bumped when Hiccup finally realigned their mouths. Dagur moved forward halfway, head tilted, eyes locked onto Hiccup with a starved depth to them. He’d wait like that for a lifetime if Hiccup wanted so; always at the edge of what he wanted but unable to take. 

Hiccup smiled, and leaned in to close the remaining gap between them.

Dagur kissed like he did everything else in his life concerning Hiccup: passionately, and with boundless enthusiasm. Hiccup tightened his grip around Dagur’s shoulders and let himself be pushed back gently onto the forest floor. 

The sun was fully risen behind them, painting the forest a murky gold. They made an elegant picture; sprawled out on a bed of moss and wildflowers. Hiccup felt peace wash over him as Dagur’s hand carded through his hair with a gentle yet frantic need that colored his every action. That he was one of the few pillars standing between Dagur and the oblivion of madness didn't detract from the genuity of Hiccup’s response. He sucked Dagur’s lip between his teeth and pulled him down flush against him. 

Then Dagur prodded him in the ribs and the moment evaporated in a laugh.

Dagur smiled down at him, and Hiccup found it hard not to smile back. So he didn't fight it; he let himself look dazed and sloven lying under the chief of his sister tribe.

There were problems, things that needed doing, and bridges that needed building. His father would have to learn not to slight Dagur at every opportunity, and Dagur would have to be taught not to see insult where none existed. There were weddings to officiate. Babies to name. Toothless would learn to tolerate Dagur. The Berserkers would learn to join them in the sky.

But for right now, Hiccup thought as Dagur made himself comfortable beside him, he was just a young man with time to waste.


End file.
